Read My Sergei Online

Authors: Ekaterina Gordeeva,E. M. Swift

My Sergei (21 page)

Sergei, though, was definitely very happy. He held me all the time, and hugged me, and tried to feel the baby in my belly.
He was talking about the baby all the time. We decided to name her Daria, since my mother had told me years before that if
she had had a third girl, she’d have named it Daria. Ekaterina, Maria, then Daria. And Sergei liked this name very much.

When the tour got to Toronto, Barbara Underhill came to see us. She had taken the season off, because she was pregnant, too,
only she was expecting twins. I thought at the time that nobody knew that Sergei and I were expecting a baby, but of course
everyone did. Barbara, when she saw me, ran up and lifted her shirt to show me her big belly, and said, “Oh, Katia, show me
yours!” I was so shocked. Barbara was telling me, “Oh, you’re so thin. Katia, you’re still skating. Are you okay?” She made
me feel a little bit brave.

When we got to Ottawa, I called Marina and asked if she’d like to see the show. Then I told her I was four months pregnant.
“Oh, it’s good,” she said right away. “You’re going to be a mommy. And afterward you will skate again.”

That made me feel better. We arranged to meet with her before the show, and we saw where she was living and the rink where
she coached. It was the first time we’d seen Marina since she’d left Russia a year earlier.

I made it through until the end of the Canadian tour, and in the last Stars on Ice practice, in Halifax, I did some double
axels, just for my own satisfaction. Once I got back to Moscow, I knew, there’d be no more skating until after the baby was
born.

All the other skaters gave me a baby shower. I still didn’t think they all knew I was pregnant, and when I walked in, I blushed
and thought,
Everyone
knows. We don’t have this tradition of baby showers in Russia. They gave me three mugs, Mama Bear’s, Papa Bear’s, and Baby
Bear’s; a mirror with a yardstick on it to measure the baby; and Rosalynn Sumners gave Daria a music box with dancing bears
inside. So many fun presents. I was so touched by these gifts. It was a real celebration of life.

Daria

S
ergei and I spent a wonderful summer in Moscow getting
ready to have the baby. By now I was proud of myself for being pregnant, and was carefully monitoring what I was eating.
I was walking and exercising every day. Sometimes I would walk up all fifteen flights of stairs to our apartment, which was
extremely boring. I listened to music, which was good for my state of mind. I had never pampered myself in this manner before.

Everyone was so surprised I was having a baby, and they pampered me, too. Sit here, Katia. Are you comfortable? Will you have
something to eat? Sergei, too, was taking care of me so tenderly, watching to make sure I was eating enough. He was always
very careful not to make me mad, and was considerate of all my needs.

It was a very hot summer in Moscow, too hot sometimes to walk in the middle of the day. I never liked the hot weather, so
I’d wait until it cooled down, sometimes after midnight. Then I’d ask Sergei, Can you come with me? He said for me to go ahead,
and he promised to watch me walk from the balcony. Which he did. I could see him. I don’t know what good he thought he’d be
able to do, since we lived on the fifteenth floor. He did own a bow and arrow. Maybe that would have helped.

One meal he said to me, “Katuuh, did you have a good lunch?” I told him I had. He said, “Finish this black caviar sandwich,
and I’ll give you a surprise.” Everyone told me I should eat caviar because of the protein. So I finished the sandwich, and
I was so full. Then Sergei brought me a big box. There was a nice scarf inside, and inside the scarf was a beautiful Rolex
watch. I was totally shocked. I lost my voice I was so surprised, because Sergei never gave me surprise presents.

I told him, “Thank you, Seriozha. I don’t deserve this. I’ll probably lose it.”

And he told me something so sweet: “No, you deserve more than this. This is just a gift.”

Although the gift made me very happy, the way Seriozha treated me, so gently, so lovingly, made me even happier.

In June or July, Sergei got a new pair of skating boots, and he went on the ice to break them in. Just for fun, I went too.
I kept tipping forward and backward on the ice, since my center of balance had completely changed. It was as if I had completely
lost my coordination. But I didn’t even worry about it for once. I was only worried about my health and my baby.

Sergei took me on a fifteen-day trip through Davos, Zurich, and Greece, just the two of us, and it was the most lovely vacation.
Greece was so beautiful, and I remember Sergei watching me one time when the baby was kicking. “What’s going on inside your
stomach?” he asked.

“You want to feel?” I took his hand and laid it on my belly, and he felt it, too. Daria kicking hello to her dad.

I gained eighteen pounds during the pregnancy, which was all right. But Tatiana recommended I go to this certain hospital
that specialized in problem births, just to be on the safe side. So I did, and they examined me and told me that because of
my small size, they’d probably have to give me a cesarean.

I talked to my mom about this, and she said that a cesarean would probably be okay. But of course the healing process would
be quite long. I wasn’t happy with this cesarean idea, and for the first time, I started wondering if we should have our baby
in the United States. We called Paul Theofanous, and he wanted to know what we were going to do next season, whether IMG could
count on us for Stars on Ice or not. Rehearsals were going to start at the end of October, five weeks after the baby was due.
If I had a cesarean, it would be impossible to make these rehearsals, and we might miss the entire season. Like a true Gemini,
I vacillated about what to do. One day I thought I should fly to the United States to have the baby, the next day I would
decide it was all right to have it in Moscow.

Daria, born in New Jersey,
September 11, 1992.

Sergei and I finally decided we should have the baby in America. Paul found a doctor for us near his home in Morristown, New
Jersey, and rented a condominium where we could stay, and Sergei and I bought airplane tickets for August 26. But when we
went to the airport, we found out that our visas had expired. We couldn’t leave.

I was so upset, as you can imagine. Sergei exchanged the tickets for another day, but now we had to go to the American embassy
to get visas for us and for my mother, who was going to come later in the month to help us when the baby was born.

I tried to dress so that the baby didn’t show, and it’s true that most people couldn’t tell that I was pregnant. We walked
into this guy’s office, and he greets us with, “Hello, hello, come right in. Now tell me, why do you want to have your baby
in the United States?”

His first question! I started to explain about rehearsals, how we had to get right onto the ice and practice for the show.
He said, “And what about your baby having U.S. citizenship? What do you think about that?”

I told him that would be okay, but that it wasn’t our main reason. He asked us to wait. While he went to talk to someone,
I was so scared he would tell us we couldn’t go. But when he came back, he gave us the visas.

Then it was the doctors at the hospital who told us we were too late, that if we were going to leave, we should have flown
earlier in August. So of course I was a little nervous when we left September 1. But I was convinced I’d be fine, and that
Daria would behave by staying where she was until my due date on the twentieth.

The day after landing in the States, we went to see the obstetrician that Paul had found for us, and, again, I was told the
baby was going to be a girl. The doctor also said that the baby was not going to grow anymore, and that the next week we could
have the delivery induced. We made an appointment to do this on the thirteenth of September.

Paul asked if we’d like to see the U.S. Open tennis tournament, and we told him yes, of course. He got us great seats for
the evening matches the night of September 10, and it was fantastic, like being at the theater. Unfortunately, they had to
stop the match when it started to rain in buckets, and we could barely get to the car, jumping through puddles on the way.

That night I felt a little more achy than usual, and Sergei drove home without any help from me, since I wasn’t paying attention.
In the middle of the night, about 4:00 A.M., I woke up feeling very weird. After an hour of walking around the condominium,
I started having contractions. But I didn’t know what they were. No one had prepared me for this. I felt bad, then okay; bad,
then okay. I thought this was very odd, and in the moments when I was feeling okay I began to carefully read the pamphlet
that the doctor had given me on our last visit. That’s when I realized I was probably having contractions.

I called the hospital, and they said I should come over. Then I woke Sergei, who began rushing around. The contractions were
coming stronger and stronger, shorter and shorter apart. It made him very nervous to hear me in the car: “I’m okay, I’m okay,”
then, “Aaarrrggghhh.” Poor guy, he didn’t know what to do. I told him to just get me to the emergency entrance, which he did,
because we’d practiced this drive many times with Paul.

The receptionist checked me in, and once I appeared to be in good hands, Sergei said, “I’ll just go wait in the car.” He didn’t
want to have to sit in the waiting room and be asked a lot of questions that he couldn’t answer. This was the worst for him.
And there was no question of him helping with the delivery, which in Russia a man didn’t do.

They put me in a room, which was a little scary because the woman next door was already screaming. My doctors gave me a shot
in the shoulder, and I briefly fell asleep. Then the contractions came back again, and the pain was becoming stronger and
stronger. I was asked if I wanted a shot in the spine to kill the pain.

We hadn’t talked about any of this before, so the doctor explained the options to me. Finally I said yes, give me the shot.
Right now. But then they gave me a lot of papers that I was told I must read and sign first. I am thinking, What? Are they
crazy? They want me to sign a contract? Give me this shot. But no, I must read this and sign. It is, of course, in English,
and I am not thinking now in English. The only thing I understand is if I sign this contract, the pain goes away. Maybe the
car, too. Maybe the Rolex. I don’t care. Give me this shot.

Which they did. Into the back, which I wasn’t expecting, although I’m sure it was all carefully explained in the document.
And then everything is nice and I’m totally relaxed.

Finally, around 11:00 A.M., they asked some questions about Sergei. “Isn’t your husband going to be here with you?”

“What for?” I asked. “Is this necessary? Can’t he wait in the car?”

“What about a girlfriend?” the nurse asked.

“What girlfriend?” I said. “No one told me I needed to bring a girlfriend to have my baby.”

Then the nurse said, “We’re telling you, you need to have someone here with you. We’re going to get your husband. He’s the
only one who can speak to you in Russian. What kind of car is he in?”

I told them, and the nurse found the car. Sergei was asleep inside. She tapped on the window, motioning for him to follow
her. He totally misunderstood. Oh, already done? Great. Is it a boy or girl? He was rushing behind the nurse and was very
surprised when he came into the room to see the baby was not born yet.

But Sergei looked calm, as he always did. Not nervous. I was the one who was nervous. I said to him, “They said you had to
be with me, Serioque. Is that okay?”

“Yes, of course. Are you in very great pain, Katoosha?”

I couldn’t feel a thing, but I didn’t think I should tell him that. “No,” I said. “As a matter of fact, I feel fine.”

He was actually happy to stay. He kept kissing my hand. The doctor started to show Sergei the machines that were monitoring
my progress, and the baby’s, all the waves that measured the strength of the contractions. Sergei listened to him politely.
Then the doctor was telling me to push and push.

I was shaking all over, really shivering, I think from a reaction to the shot in the spine. I didn’t remember to push. Sergei
was holding my hand. Three or four times I pushed, and the only thing I felt was when Daria came out. It was like everything
in my body below my neck came out, too. I now felt completely empty.

The doctor put Daria on my stomach, and I was still shaking like crazy, very, very cold. And I remember thinking, Wow, is
everybody going to be surprised when they see that it’s a boy. I still didn’t believe them. But I was the one who was surprised.

“She’s a girl,” the doctor said, and he gave Daria to Sergei to hold, before I even had a chance to hold her. Sergei was so
shocked, but he took her. He didn’t even have a hospital gown on, like everyone else. He was standing there in his blue-jean
shirt. I can still picture them. And I was so happy now that he was there. Daria was so small, and red, and she didn’t have
any hair. They cleaned her up and put this funny little hat on her head, and they asked if we wanted to call home.

Other books

The Summer Hideaway by Susan Wiggs
A New Resolution by Ceri Grenelle
To Die Alone by John Dean
You Only Die Twice by Edna Buchanan
The Stardroppers by John Brunner
7 More MILF Stories by Sophie Sin
Justice Hall by Laurie R. King
The Last of the Savages by Jay McInerney